


Pleasant End to a Mishap Made Right

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, bc fred rly needs to be alive for this to work lol, cameos from others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 15:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little nudge. Hannah's pretty sure Fred will always need a kick to the head.





	Pleasant End to a Mishap Made Right

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. Read, review, and enjoy! Originally written for Morghen, for her birthday.

> _"You've been married for five minutes. What happened to the honeymoon phase?" "I blinked." —Deb & Angel, Dexter season 5 episode 6_

It began with a dream.

Hannah remembers it well. She had been curled up in her bed sometime in the winter of fifth year. With her head resting against a cream-colored pillow and a blanket as black as the Black Lake pulled up to her chin, she had fallen asleep hours ago, right after supper and a nice, warm shower. Her dream had taken her to a field of flowers and then a forest. There, she had been laughing with Ernie, and Susan and Justin and her fellow Hufflepuff friends. She had been caught in Ernie's arms, and she dared to cross the line and look up when she was about to kiss him—

But then she saw red hair and darker brown eyes, and it was all _wrong_ , and—

She woke shaking from that dream. She didn't tell her roommates about it; not Susan, or Leanne or Megan or Eloise—none of them could know. The last thing that Hannah Abbott wanted anyone to know was that she had just dreamt of kissing a Weasley boy.

The idea was ludicrous. Hannah liked nice guys, sure, but a _Weasley_? That had to be the worst thing that could ever happen! Hannah didn't have anything against the family for being so big that they were poor…but she just…well, frankly, she was just not as enthusiastic as any of them. There would be no way for it to work. Even as it stood then, in fifth year, Hannah was at best acquaintances with Ron Weasley, the redhead her own age; by association, she was acquaintances with Ginny and, kind of, with the twins. But Hannah was sure her life was set out for her already, and it didn't need to be rattled.

She would graduate, maybe do something with Herbology, marry Ernie, have a few kids, and live a good long life—the one witches and wizards were meant to enjoy.

There would be no foolishness about any Weasley boys. Ever.

* * *

For a while, Hannah bought in to her own lies. Even though things with the D.A. began to crumble with the pressure of Umbridge's punishments looming over their heads, Hannah was convinced that life was fine.

"Hannah, you've got major bags under your eyes," Susan told her at one meeting. The girls were sitting off to the side while Harry helped Justin and Ernie work on the Stunning Spell.

Instinctively, Hannah rubbed nonexistent sleep dust from her eyes and shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me," Susan scolded with a slight glare. "Your face reminds me of Moaning Myrtle's."

Hannah pouted then and twirled one of her blond pigtails over her shoulder. "Okay, okay… So I haven't been sleeping well. It happens. I mean, we have O.W.L.s." Of course, at the mention of them, her apprehension did grow. Oh, Merlin, how would she be able to focus if…?

"O.W.L.s, yeah…" Susan sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Justin and Ernie were saying we should form a study group. You up for it?"

"Sure, anything," Hannah said. Perhaps if she had something else to focus on, then… _Then maybe the dreams will go away,_ Hannah thought, for even though it had begun with one dream, there had been others. A handful of others, and they all seemed intent on ruining her life plans.

"Oh, yeah!" came a cheer from several students. Hannah and Susan turned their gazes towards a little gathering off on the other side of the Room of Requirement and watched as the Weasley twins did a few Muggle magic tricks.

Hannah smiled as one twin dropped the pile of playing cards he had and shoved his brother. "Oi, George! Look at what you made me do!"

George laughed. "Look at who's the butterfingers for once!"

"More like 'butter _ginger_ ,'" Fred retorted with a mischievous wink.

Their fellow D.A. members either groaned or laughed with them, and Hannah found herself chuckling.

"Merlin, wouldn't it be great if the twins could…I dunno… _do_ something to Umbridge?" Susan asked her friend under her breath.

Hannah grinned. "I didn't know you had any Slytherin in you, Susie." Though she couldn't have agreed more.

* * *

At the next few meetings, Susan didn't pester her anymore about the bags under her eyes, but her expressions said it all. It was also getting bad enough that others were starting to take notice.

"Hannah, you all right?" Harry asked briefly.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm brilliant. I just need to work on my Patronus."

"You really should get some sleep," Hermione commented politely another time.

"Yes, but O.W.L.s revision—you know!"

Ron and Zacharias, as well as the Patil twins, raised their eyebrows at her. Like several of the others, they didn't say anything, but they didn't have to—it was written all over their faces.

"Hannah…" was about all Neville could manage. He tried growing some flowers for her a couple times in the hopes that the bright colors might liven her up a bit and help to keep her awake. They didn't; all they did was make her think more of the bloody dreams.

" _Oookay_ ," Ernie finally said after everyone else had had their say. "Spill. Now."

"I just need a break," Hannah fibbed as they sat in the Hufflepuff common room. She had her book laid out on the table in front of her. Originally, Susan and Justin had been studying with her, but a look from Ernie had shooed them away.

"No, you're not. I probably know you the best around here. I know you're lying, luv."

A healthy dose of color tinged her cheeks, and she was forced to push her work aside. "Seriously, Ern, I just need a break…"

Ernie eyed her skeptically before grabbing her hand and hauling her out of Hufflepuff territory and outside for a walk around the castle. "Then take a break when you need it," he griped.

Hannah nodded, and they walked for a while. Eventually they neared the greenhouses, and Hannah sighed. "I wonder if Neville's in there, he's been so worried…"

Though he had originally wanted to cheer her up, Ernie ended up scoffing and getting angry at the mention of Neville's name. "You spend more time with him than with me, you know that?"

"Neville's a friend, Ernie, and we both love Herbology," she groaned. The last thing she wanted then was a row with her best mate and hopefully-future-husband.

Ernie's face fell. "…I bet you told him what's bugging you."

"What? No! I haven't told anyone, honest!"

Ernie grumbled and stuck his hands in his pockets. "But he looks as if he wants to listen."

Hannah froze, and Ernie walked away. She hadn't thought of that before, Neville liking her in _that_ way. Neville had only ever been a friend to her. There was no way that…

She groaned again and hoofed it back inside the castle. Just what she needed—the trouble of the dreams, an angry Ernie, a lovesick Neville, _and_ O.W.L.s all at once! And all because of the stupid bags under her eyes!

Well, maybe it was the dreams instead, but…

Ahead of her, she heard quiet chatter. Hannah picked up her head and saw the Weasley twins making marks on a piece of parchment. One of them heard her first and looked up; a second later, another set of brown eyes landed on her face. They grinned at the same time.

"Er, hullo," she said softly.

"Fred, we need to—" George reminded his brother.

"I know, I know. Go on ahead, I'll take care of it."

Holy Helga. What did _that_ mean? Take care of what? Had Hannah stumbled upon something she shouldn't have? And were they going to do something to her now for it? Tentatively, Hannah took a step backwards.

"Hey, Hannah," Fred called to her.

A lump formed in her throat. She was constricted by both fear and embarrassment, for she had reasoned only shortly after her dreams had started that the Weasley boy in her dreams had to be one of the twins. Now to have to talk to one of them…!

"Hey," he repeated. "How are you?"

What? What kind of an attack was that? "Um…fine," she replied.

"Good," he said, nodding. He was only half paying attention as he rummaged through his rucksack and pulled out a little container. He passed it to her. "Try this."

"What is it?"

"A kind of rejuvenation cream. George and I are looking at it as a new WonderWitch product for when we open our shop. This'll help those huge trash bags right there," he continued, poking the skin under his eye.

Hannah gawked at him, rather offended. "They're not _that_ bad, are they?!"

"Well, you could probably fit a whole house-elf in there— _I'm joking_ ," he quickly and heavily added as he watched her face morph from apprehensive to a mixture of downright fury and hurt. He took a breath and, though he looked new to the idea of being _nice_ to a girl instead of just making her laugh, said, "Hey, we just took notice of what everyone else in the D.A. had and thought we could help."

"Oh…so you made this for…me?"

"Er, yeah… Well, use it once before bed daily for a month, and tell me or George daily how you feel!" He waved and jogged off then, leaving Hannah gripping the container of cream.

From that night on, she was pretty sure it was Fred about whom she'd been dreaming.

* * *

The cream tingled and then sizzled when she put it on her skin, but the improvement was immediate and dramatic. Not only did the bags fade, but Hannah felt that she had regained her energy, as well. Though some of that might have come from seeing Fred daily.

"No side-effects still," she stated happily a week and a half into the regimen.

Fred shook his head in amazement. "My brother and I sure like to outdo ourselves every now and then."

Hannah chuckled and playfully shoved his arm. "Well, if that's all, then I should probably go. Ernie's likely waiting back at the common room before we go to lunch, but I need to stop by the greenhouses and see Neville."

"Mm-hmm," Fred mumbled absentmindedly.

She wondered if Fred would ever be curious about her and her goings-on, but she doubted it. Hannah figured the best of both worlds was all that she could have for now. She could maintain her normal friendships and have Fred—in her mind—on the side. The Hufflepuff laughed as a funny image of Fred as a side dish formed in her mind's eye. He sure was a treat!

The following weeks were similar, except Hannah found her reasoning wearing on her nerves. As the end of the twins' "study" drew near, she found she was a bit snippy. She didn't want to lose her excuse to see the boy who was _literally_ the man of her dreams.

"'Irritability towards end of jar,'" Fred dutifully noted as he lounged in a corridor by one of the castle's exits.

"It's not the cream's fault," Hannah hissed under her breath to herself.

Fred picked his head up and gave her a look that she couldn't quite read. "What, it's not the cream?"

"No, it's not."

"Then— _oh_ ," he finished, as if he knew everything.

Hannah's face flushed. "It's not _that_ either!" she almost shrieked.

This time even Fred blushed. "Oh, er, sorry…"

Hannah sighed—she wondered how often she was doing that lately—and gave him a look. "The cream works brilliantly, it really does."

"Then what is it?"

The blonde bit her bottom lip. There was no way in Azkaban that she'd tell him. "…never mind, Fred."

He stared at her, and she wished he wouldn't, or that he'd at least say something. She doubted Fred knew the kind of effect he could have on people. Finally, he looked away and dropped his eyes to his parchment. "If you're sure, then."

That was just the thing! She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure about anything. She wasn't sure what she thought of her dreams anymore, she wasn't sure what she thought of Fred, and she wasn't sure of O.W.L.s or school or Neville or Ernie at all anymore. It was driving her bloody nuts.

It didn't help at all when she finally did finish the cream. Fred seemed pretty happy, though, with how things had turned out, and Hannah was at least glad for that. A week after it ran out, Hannah was still trying to push the dreams and Fred out of her mind.

Of course, Fred walked right back in, but who was to notice?

It was after a D.A. meeting, and Hannah was dragging her feet. If she returned to the Hufflepuff common room, she wasn't sure she could study well enough for her exams, and she felt the same way if she went to the library. Maybe it was just better to stay in the Room of Requirement…

"Oi, Hannah."

Oh, yes. How gentlemanly. It was a step above "hey, you," at least.

Fred half grinned as he took a few steps towards her. Hannah furtively glanced over his shoulder; the Gryffindor Quidditch girls weren't looking their way, so at least Hannah didn't have to worry about them thinking the wrong thing. She'd heard Angelina might've had a thing for one of the twins, but at that moment she couldn't remember for whom. And did it even really matter when Hannah was close to detaching herself emotionally from this whole charade anyway?

"What can I do for you?" she asked as she pulled out her Potions text. It would be better to hide out here for last-minute studying after all, she decided.

"Here."

She looked up as he thrust another container at her. Hannah stared at it before glancing at him. "More…?"

"Yeah, you were a great help. So, you know…it's something to hold on to, for future use."

"Oh, I was thinking of keeping the bags, since I could tote a house-elf in them," she quipped without thinking. The witch paused and looked at him again, hoping she hadn't been too snappish.

The reaction was quite the opposite, though. Fred met her eyes and burst out laughing. "Nice one, turning my own joke on me!" His laugh softened as he placed the jar in her hand and closed her fingers around it. "Hey, just don't use it all the time, Hannah. We changed it a bit so you won't have to, so…yeah." He straightened up, his face the same as ever.

Hannah nodded and thanked him and watched him leave…all the while her heart wouldn't stop pounding in her chest.

The following week, Fred and George showed Umbridge their fireworks display and proceeded to drop out of Hogwarts, exiting with a stunning sales pitch for the opening of their shop.

Hannah didn't use a drop of the cream. She didn't need it, since she could easily cry herself to sleep. And there, her dreams were much nicer to her than reality ever would or could be.

* * *

The end of the year was fine enough for Hannah. Not counting the stuff she'd heard that Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had been through, the year ended okay. She did fine on her O.W.L.s, and Ernie seemed to get over the idea of her and Neville. Really, honestly, Neville and Luna looked as though they could have a thing going. Hannah was sure it would be her and Ernie in the end.

"Ugh, what's that smell?" Eloise asked as they all packed their things before leaving.

Megan peered in her nightstand drawer and apologized, tossing the sickly smelling odor of turned honey. "Oh, sorry, everyone. Spoiled potion. Forget about it."

Hannah did, and eventually the summer came and went, and the next thing Hannah knew she was in Diagon Alley, buying a few things for her sixth year. She knew about the new shop up the street—everyone did—but she couldn't bring herself to go there, she just couldn't.

Naturally, Ernie wanted to pay a visit there.

Hannah begrudgingly joined him and kept her eyes on the floor. She wanted to look anywhere but one of the twins' faces. Even if she happened to bump into George instead of Fred, she knew it would be trouble.

In the end, Hannah couldn't help it, and she looked up—to see Fred talking closely with the blond witch they had hired to work for them. "Virility," or something, was her name.

Well, that didn't matter. Hannah indulged in her dreams every now and then these days, but she was sure she'd gotten over it. Positive. Fred Weasley was long gone from her mind.

But then the school year started, and things were more dangerous now than ever. Hannah tried to think positively and focus on her Prefect duties with Ernie…

…but then came that fateful Herbology lesson, and suddenly Hannah's world was upended.

Before, reality had not hit Hannah so hard. Now, Hannah understood all too well why Harry had taught the things he'd taught them in the D.A. With her mother gone— _dead_ by Death Eaters!—Hannah didn't know what to do. She was fine and all in Dumbledore's Army…but she hadn't really expected anything to happen. Least of all to her or to her family.

And now her mother was _dead_?

…

What was that word, even?

Ernie was no help, and Hannah didn't have the energy to say much to him before she packed her bags and left for the rest of the school year. Just—just right now, she couldn't handle any of this. She couldn't deal with this. She couldn't even answer letters from him, Susan, or Justin for several months. Not with the way she was.

That summer, the summer that should've been between her sixth and seventh but would just herald her repeat of her sixth, was so iffy. Hannah had a hard time deciding whether she'd go back…but then the Hogwarts staff changed, the Ministry of Magic changed, and the Wizarding world changed, and Hannah found her pretty little blond head on the Hogwarts Express regardless of any choice of her own. She was a half-blood and therefore bound to go.

The dreams had long since faded with the fresh imaginings of her mother's death in her mind, and Hannah found she once again had trouble sleeping. The only difference was that most of the students had the same trouble these days. Even Susan did, especially after losing her aunt, and she didn't pester Hannah about any bags under her eyes.

It was terrifying to be at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione, and Ron weren't there, and Ginny, Neville, and Luna were doing their best to keep the D.A. alive. At first, Hannah was nervous about it.

"We've got to do… _something_ ," Neville told her one night as they sat in the Room of Requirement. Some of their friends were there, too, talking or relaxing or doing something to get their minds off the war both inside and outside of the castle.

"I know," Hannah stated. "Why else would I have let you convinced me to join back up?"

Neville chuckled quietly, very gently, and Hannah rested her head on his shoulder. "Hey, you're safe here, with us." He paused. "…with me."

It was something as simple as that that got Hannah to forget nearly all about Fred.

As she grew closer to Neville and Ernie seemed not so upset over it, Hannah saw this as a chance to be her normal teenage self. The Carrows could torture them, the teachers could be Death Eaters, the whole world could be upended…and she would be okay so long as she had her friends and Neville. Her family might have been torn apart, but the D.A. was her family. Neville was by her side.

* * *

A dream woke her that night.

Hannah saw herself in her dream, running the Leaky Cauldron of all places, and she was happy. Just up the street, her husband ran his own business, and he came home for lunch to her. He came home for supper to her. He came home to her.

In her dreams, Fred always came home to her.

It was like a punch to the gut, Hannah waking from the dream. But she barely had any time to comprehend it as her surroundings overtook her.

Most of the D.A. had fallen into the habit of resting in the Room of Requirement, so it made sense when Hannah awoke to an alert Neville in the sleeping bag beside her. He hopped up before the others, and Ginny and Luna rallied them, and then everything was a whirlwind—

—the running—

—the fighting—

—the spells flying—

—the near-hits…and the near-misses—

—the shouts, screams, cries of desperation—

—the separation—

—the unity—

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were back and leading the battle against You-Know-Who and his legions of Death Eaters and sympathizers. They stopped with the Order of the Phoenix to give orders—go here, go there, guard the towers—

Hannah, amongst others, left for the castle's hidden passageways, and thank Merlin for Harry because he protected her and Seamus from certain death with one spell. But, up ahead, their leaders…

"You lot fan out," Fred yelled from the front.

"The rest of you, brace the walls," George ordered from beside his brother. Lee acted as a sort of lieutenant between the two and the students who were fighting.

Hannah ran ahead, throwing caution to the wind. "It's dangerous down here, too!" she barked at them.

Fred looked at her and gave his brother a look. When he turned back to her, he was grinning. "It's dangerous everywhere, Hannah. It's our job to protect the others."

She bit her lip, knowing it was quivering because her eyes were also wet. Hannah turned with her back to Fred's and reinforced some of the barriers. The stones, with all the students' spells, could not possibly—

A large blast caught them all off-guard, and Hannah fell to the ground, covering her head. On top of her was Fred, but he had been knocked out by a stray boulder.

" _Fred_!" she shrieked. " _FRED_!" She screamed for George, and they carried Fred out of the rubble, leaving the others to abandon all hope for the tunnels.

By the time they got Fred up to the Great Hall, things were at a climax, with Harry facing off against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named _right_ _there_. Time almost seemed to stop with Fred slumped between Hannah and George, and then—

Then…it was _over_.

It was an absurd thought, to think of this war as finally _done_ …but it was. Hannah never noted how long the actual battle took, but she knew it had felt like forever. Especially when she and George had to carry the injured Fred back to their family. With how hard Fred had been hit, it would be a wonder if he'd be okay. George had lost an ear, yes, but Fred…

Hannah couldn't handle the possibility of what Fred would be like once he awoke. So she left the Weasleys and found Neville and embraced him, kissed him, and knew where her life led.

But that was then.

* * *

It was…surreal.

Life…somehow…managed to move on, whether anyone was ready or not. Hannah, like a few others, returned to Hogwarts to finish out her schooling.

But then what?

What came after Hogwarts?

Hannah shook her head when she caught herself at home one night, thinking a Ministry job would be good. Hannah knew she wasn't that type of person. But what type of person was she? She wasn't going to teach—and Neville had landed the Herbology job anyway—but she didn't have much of an idea at all. What was she trying to do with her life?

Oddly, that night she had that Leaky Cauldron-Fred dream again. The next day, she spoke to Tom the barman about a job.

From there, everything was pleasantly placid. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and, somewhere along the way, Hannah married Neville and came to own the Leaky Cauldron. Life was perfect and couldn't get any better.

Neville came home whenever he could. Oh, so Harry's godson started school? Amazing. Harry's and Malfoy's kids started Hogwarts? Oh, how the time has flown! The first of the Potter–Weasley clan is graduating this year? Boy, did Hannah feel old…

And not once had she ventured up the street to the man who she wished waited for her.

Hannah never could fully put Fred out of her mind, not with the daily reminder of the Leaky Cauldron. And—though she'd never tell Neville—her eyes _did_ wander towards the back door of the pub, the one that led to Diagon Alley and endless possibilities… But, time and again, she told herself that there _weren't_ any possibilities, that possibilities were sure betrayal: to Neville, to her family, to the Longbottoms.

…but maybe pushing the possibilities out of her mind was the ultimate betrayal to _herself_.

It would've been easier if life had not intervened. Hannah wasn't a stranger to lying to herself, but when she was confronted…her mind would go fuzzy and doubt would well up in her chest, and then she'd want to cry, and, oh—Fred Weasley was such a git for turning up when she least (most?) needed him. Because turn up he did. He just walked right in to the pub and sat at the bar counter without preamble and surveyed his surroundings with a kind of nostalgic appreciation (appraising?). Then, then he looked at her.

"Hullo," she choked before hiding her face behind a tankard of butterbeer.

Fred watched her quietly, just as he used to, and sipped the drink, not remarking that he hadn't even ordered it. Maybe he was just being nice and taking whatever she was giving him. He'd probably leave money out of pity, thinking that such a homely-looking older witch whom he'd once known could doubtful afford to give him anything free. Though he wouldn't know that, that the pub had been more of a burden than anything else recently, that Hannah had been wondering a little recently that maybe Neville should work more instead of dillydallying in the greenhouses in all his free time—though she was sure he had a reason for it…

Her knuckles turned white around the handle of the glass in her hand. She could blame her distraction all on Fred Weasley, of that she was certain.

"Hannah."

His voice was gentle—a bit raspy, hoarse, as though he'd spent all day doing sales pitches. Nevertheless, it was as she remembered it. In her dreams, in real life, in her memories… Hannah wanted to crumble at the sound of it, to tell Fred everything that she'd swore she'd never tell anyone even under the threat of Azkaban because, really, loving him felt like the biggest crime of the century.

Wait. She _loved_ him? Really?

She did open her mouth. "Fred—" Her words failed her…and her nose twitched. She blinked, her anxiety flying away from her for one thankful moment. "Um, what's that odor…?"

Fred grinned (oh, how her heart twinged) and chuckled. "Ah, George and I were just cleaning out some old inventory… We had to bag some old potions."

She nodded as she listened. That stench was familiar, like honey gone bad…

"…sucks that we had to lose those Love Potions. Shame. They're such—or rather, they used to be such a seller."

"What?"

But, no, her ears did not fail her. Fred repeated what he said and then stared at her again. "Is something the matter, Hannah?"

Her stomach churned. "I've…smelled rotten Love Potion before…"

"When?" He seemed surprised.

She shook her head and tried to dismiss it with a small, fake smile. "Oh, back in your testing days… One of my roommates had one and didn't use it. It—" She stopped, a terrible realization hitting her. "It must've been bad for ages…"

Fred frowned, perhaps a smidge annoyed. "What a waste. Some girls would've killed for that back then. Er, before that whole whatshername trying to use some on Harry," he added when he recalled an anecdote of his brother-in-law's. He looked at Hannah. "Did you ever use some?"

Hannah blushed and shook her head. "No, never. Getting my hands on Love Potion was the last thing on my mind back then."

"You never used any? Not on Ernie? Or Neville?"

She laughed, feeling better. Now that they were joking around, the atmosphere between them didn't feel so tight and tense. "No, Fred, I assure you not." Though she was surprised he even remembered the boys with whom she used to stroll the castle.

Fred shrugged. "All right…" He sipped his drink and finally looked at it instead of her. "You never used any on me?"

Just like that, her happy feeling Disapparated, and she bit her lip. Why? Why would he ask something like that? She waited until he met her eyes again.

"Sorry. Thought I should ask."

"That's ridiculous," she spat. But she backpedaled when Fred Weasley, of all people, looked hurt. "I mean, no, I never used any on you. Why—you—" She took a breath. She couldn't decide if she wanted to make a statement or ask him a question.

"You can't honestly think I'd go jumping in front of boulders as a hobby?"

She furrowed her brow, not grasping what he was saying.

He stood and leaned over the counter. "Hannah, the battle? The blast?" He reached out—timidly at first but then determined—and caught a blond lock in his fingers. "I could've sworn I was the only one who'd been knocked out then."

Hannah frowned, her face still warm. "You were. But—but you must be imagining things, this whole Love Potion business and that bump on your head—"

"Hannah, I saved you because I wanted to."

She flinched as though scolded. "…of course you did… I was a D.A. member, a friend…"

Fred grimaced and backed away, not leaving any money on the counter. Oh. So he wasn't going to pay.

Well, that was that. Fred was imagining things, and Hannah knew she was _not_ "in love" with him but just had the remnants of a girlish crush on him, and—

But then he reappeared behind the counter, much taller than she remembered. He tugged on her left hand and dared to thumb that gold ring on her ring finger as he pulled her out of any leering customer's sight and kissed her. It was rough—his lips were chapped—and experienced and lonely. Fred tasted as though he hadn't been alive in years and was only now finding life.

Hannah, on the other hand, knew her current life was over. …then again, when had she become so submissive to take a second-rate excuse for a life? Still, she knew that propriety urged her to stop him. "Your feelings—they popped out of nowhere."

"Not true," he corrected as he hugged her to him, his hands clasped at the small of her back so she couldn't escape. "I might've created a WonderWitch product for some Hufflepuff girl, but I made extra for Hannah Abbott, I protected Hannah Abbott for completely ludicrous chivalric reasons when my mind stepped out during a life-or-death battle, I hired a blond witch to work in my store, and I have always wanted to come and have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron to see if Hannah Abbott could cook. Butterbeer doesn't count, luv."

She furrowed her brow. "I…" Hannah sighed. "I honestly thought I would go nuts."

"What? You did have a thing for me?"

She gave him a look. "I'm going to blame it on the Love Potion."

"Hannah," Fred groaned, "George and I made those potions so that they stop working the moment they turn. That was the first thing we perfected before we let anyone have one. So I'm no figment of your imagination," he followed up, kissing her again.

Yet again, she protested. "But Neville—he's my husband and my friend, and I _do_ love him…" But, even as she said it, she had to wonder if she loved him like a husband or like a brother.

"That's fine. I'm sure I can bully Neville. That, or I send my nieces and nephews to school next year with a few new tricks up their sleeves." Fred grinned, and Hannah knew any further arguments would be silenced in a way that Fred would make sure Hannah would come to love (though she was quite sure she already did…). "So what's that about you going nuts? You _did_ seem like such a giddy girly-girl around me."

"Ehm, well…it began with a dream…" And now it would end with many more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> -w- So, can anyone spot the Neville/? pairing? I think it's obvious to mew fans, *lol*. And, yes, I intentionally left some holes to perhaps fill in with more Fredannah fics… B3
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki ;D
> 
> 2017 note: Ahhh, man, this old fic warms my heart. I think it's one of the softer stories I've done, and I'm glad I took it across the yrs, beginning with their D.A. times. I tend to like working some canonical things in (Nevannah, Fred's blast) and then upending them. Feels a tad realer that way. :P


End file.
